


Despite the Odds

by theparadoxicalfox, TrulyMightyPotato



Series: Royal Flush [28]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Gen, Masks, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2019-07-01 06:59:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15768960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theparadoxicalfox/pseuds/theparadoxicalfox, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrulyMightyPotato/pseuds/TrulyMightyPotato
Summary: Would you look at those lovely, lovely, not dead people. :D





	Despite the Odds

Gar stared at himself in the mirror, the quarters he’d spent so much time in and companions he’d spent time with reflected back at him.

He didn’t seem the same as when he’d gotten here in December. Even to himself, he felt older. Not as damaged as he used to be, though.

He absently touched his left shoulder, where he’d been shot, then moved his arm experimentally. Yep. It worked, thanks to the extensive physical therapy he’d gone through.

One of the two others in the room, the one sitting on the neatly made bed, lowered his head and touched the side of his face where extensive scar tissue replaced an eye.

“You ready, kid?” Cry asked, clapping him on the shoulder.

Gar winced as Cry’s hand landed on one of the many bruises he’d gotten to set up his cover story, getting a murmured apology, and shook his shoulder free. Then he took a deep breath and broke gaze with his reflection to look at the other Faceless. “Yeah. I’m just... It’s been so long I’ve been gone. And you two aren’t even going back yet.”

“Oh, don’t worry about us,” Jack chuckled softly. “Not even death itself could keep me from going back to Boston now.” He sounded distinctly wistful, hand drifting to the locket around his neck as he spoke.

“We’ve still got a bit longer, JJ,” Cry reminded.

“Soon, though.”

“Soon,” Cry agreed.

Gar looked back and forth between the two men who’d been brought with him here, to the worldwide Faceless headquarters, to heal. Québec was a nice enough city, he supposed, but he really just wanted to get home. He couldn’t imagine how desperate they must be getting--they didn’t even have a solid return date yet.

“Here,” Jack stood, “we’ll see you out.”

Cry nodded, and Gar picked up his mask from the nearby table before slipping it on.

The walk through the halls was quiet, and they were the only three out and about. Of course, since it was nearly midnight, that wasn’t terribly surprising.

“Don’t forget to look for them,” Jack said quietly, urgently, as they walked up to the car Gar would be riding home in.

“I’ll check in on Wiishu, I promise. And I’ll ask after Felix and Marzia.” Gar nodded at Cry, who dipped his head in response.

“Thanks.”

“It’s the least I can do.”

“Get going, kiddo,” Cry said lightly, urging Gar forward with a gentle shove. “Boston’s waiting.”

Gar just chuckled and ducked his head, then lifted a hand in farewell and got in the car, closing the door with a decided  _ thud. _ He waved once more as it pulled away, and then he was gone.

“He’s a good kid,” Jack said softly, eye still trained on the road towards Boston. Towards home.

“Yeah. He is.” Cry shoved his hands in his pockets. “Come on, let’s get back inside. The sooner we’ve got a clean bill of health, the sooner we can go home.”

“I really hope Signe is still there.” Jack closed his eye, hand going to the locket he wore. It was a bit battered, and a bit bloodstained, but he still had it. “I can’t wait to see her again, to dance at Freddy’s again.”

“I miss my cat.”

Jack opened his eye to shoot Cry a side glance. “You don’t have anyone you want to see?”

“My cat. And my dog. I have a lot of animals in my life. I’m okay with this.”

Jack snorted. “Okay.” He sighed. “I’ll get to pet Chica again.”

“She is one good pup,” Cry agreed, turning to walk back in. “Come on. If Angel catches us out here we’ll never get permission to go home.”

“Aww, she wouldn’t.”

Cry just started walking back to his room.

\-----

“You’re healing decently well,” Angel said. “You can put your shirt back on.”

Cry obeyed, buttoning it quickly as she wrote something on her clipboard. “And?”

“I’m honestly not sure you’re quite ready. You’re sure you aren’t in more pain than you’re telling me?”

Cry groaned, but nodded. “I promise. I almost never hurt anymore.”

“I’ll see what I can swing, but I can’t promise anything.” She shook her head. “Have you gotten cleared by the trainers?”

“Yep. I can still murder people.” Cry swung his feet gently.

She laughed and put the clipboard down on the counter. “Get out of my office.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Cry hopped off the examination table and walked out, though he was smiling.

He found Jack lurking in the shadows, watching a group of young trainees chasing a dog. They must have been in their first year, because the oldest of them couldn’t have been any older than 14. And because nobody seemed concerned that they were chasing a dog instead of attending lessons.

Man, he missed his first year.

“You look deep in thought.”

Jack glanced over, then turned his gaze back to the kids. “Yeah. Just thinkin’ of the spuds back home, and the mob. Wondering who took over, how things are going now.”

“It’ll still be there.”

Jack grunted. “With Mir and PJ out on the streets? Some part of me doubts that.” He stood from leaning against the wall. “At least I can count on PJ not to raid the warehouse.”

“You don’t think he’ll do that?”

Jack snorted. “He might have shot me, but he’s not a child murderer.”

“What standards.”

“Oh, because you don’t have limits to what you’ll do.”

Cry crossed his arms and leaned with his back across the wall. “I’ve done a lot of messed up stuff.”

Jack sort of glanced over, but said nothing.

Cry sighed. “I was the one who sabotaged the molasses tower.”

Jack swore. “Cry! I- Why?”

Cry burrowed himself deeper into his folded arms. “Felix asked me to. Well, he wanted it to give way at night, when nobody would be out on the streets, but I didn’t realize the tower was built wrong. It burst a whole eight hours before it was supposed to.”

And so many people had died.

“That’s... wow.”

Cry sighed, letting his head drop against the wall.

“My younger brother... he got caught in it.”

Jack twisted to stare at Cry, his one remaining eye opening wide. “What? Cry, I’m so sorry.”

It was his fault his brother died, Cry knew that. Early on, he’d blamed Felix, but... it wasn’t entirely Felix’s fault. Sure, he was the one who wanted the tank burst, but Cry was the one who messed up the timing.

“It’s... I’ve come to terms with it, mostly.” Cry absently gazed at the kids running around. “He’d be in training by now, if he was alive. He was always looking forward to that.”

“That can’t have been easy.”

“No.” Cry looked at Jack. “But if he survived something tells me he’d be pretty mad at me.”

Jack shrugged. “It’s not worth it.”

Cry raised an eyebrow, not that Jack could see it. “Oh?”

“Hating PJ. He was just doing his job, doing his best.” Jack sighed. “If our positions had been switched, I’d have done the same thing to him. Except I wouldn’t have been so incompetent as to miss his brain.” He touched the scar tissue covering his damaged eye. “I  _ did _ try to shoot him earlier that month, so I guess we’re even.”

“Does this mean you won’t try to blow his brains out when we get back?”

Jack sighed. “I don’t know, Cry. It’s what would be best for the mob, and he didn’t hesitate when he got the chance to shoot me, but...”

Cry waited patiently. He knew Jack well enough by now to know where this was going.

“But we were friends. We were  _ good _ friends. I know him, Cry, and I know that while he’s a terrifying idiot, he’s usually a well-meaning terrifying idiot.” He sighed. “Plus, it’s not my responsibility to care about the mob anymore, and I don’t think I’d be allowed to interfere.”

“Something tells me this kind of talking is what got you shot.”

Jack laughed. “No, that was my charming good looks.” He stroked his chin. “Clearly he felt threatened.”

“I dunno about that. He’s a good-looking man, and something tells me he’s quite aware of that.”

Jack laughed again, then sighed and stared at the sky.

A moment of silence.

“You realize, Cry... It’s been almost six months since we got here.”

Cry nodded.

“When we get back to Boston... it might not be the same city it was when we left. A lot can change in six months, after all.”

“That’s okay.” Cry uncrossed his arms and put a reassuring hand on Jack’s shoulder, but his frame remained tense. “We’re not the same men we were six months ago. And we, Boston, and our friends aren’t the same people they were a year ago. Life does that.”

Jack gave Cry a smile. “Thanks. I needed that.” Still, his hand drifted to his locket once more, and a distant look came over his eye.

“No problem.” Cry stuck his hands back in his pockets. “You want to watch the kids some more, or...?”

“Let’s go train.” Jack turned and started walking down the hall, dropping his hands to his pockets. “I’ve got to shoot something to get rid of all these nerves.”

“Just don’t shoot me, and we’ll be okay.”

Jack looked over his shoulder just enough for Cry to see the wide grin stretching across his face. “No promises.”

“I feel safe,” Cry said dryly, getting yet another laugh from Jack.

Cry laughed himself, and followed. 

Soon enough, he and Jack would get to go home to Boston. Home to their friends. Home to their animals.

Soon enough.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the last of the regularly scheduled short stories, so apologies to those who've come to look forward to them on a regular basis. However, we do have an announcement. But we think that [this link here is going to explain it best.](https://youtu.be/v8U3kJoFDN8)


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